What They Think Is Sickness
by youpromisedmebroadway
Summary: AU. August 1945. Blaine Anderson never had the chance to fight in the War and feels insignificant and like a coward. Lost in self pity, somehow the Fabray's blue eyed stable hand can make Blaine feel like a boy again, and not the man he's become at 17.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: **AU. August 1945 and the years long war has ended, leaving young Blaine Anderson feeling like he should have done more. Growing up in a society rebuilding after the horrors that took place in Europe was never going to be easy. But the Fabray's new stable hand with the beautiful blue eyes can somehow make Blaine feel like a boy again. And not the man he's been forced to become at only 17.

**Disclaimer: **Glee is owned by Fox and its writers Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan and Brad Falchuk.

* * *

><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

* * *

><p>Blaine Anderson was adamant about one thing. The day he turned 18, he would sign up. He would join the army and fight for his country. Men all around him were signing up. Boys around him were attempting to join up. Noah Puckerman the year previous, at only 16, had practically been on a ship to England before he was caught and dragged back to Lima. If he could, if there was even the slightest possibility he could get away with it, Blaine would have faked his age and laid his life down for his country.<p>

His mother had begged him to not be so rash. He was a bright boy, she'd say. With University starting only a short time after he turned 18, it would be stupid to join the fight. His sister was far from pleased with Blaine's wishes, but knew how much it meant to him. Her husband was part of the Navy, a vital player in the transportation of goods to Great Britain. She already missed him terribly, sick with worry about whether or not he would come home. She didn't want her baby brother off in the midst of a war too.

As far as Blaine's father was concerned, this was Britain's war, and though he supported supplying the country with food and resources, he was not happy about sacrificing American soldiers and civilians in their plight to defeat Germany.

"We are fighting the Japanese," he would say. And Blaine would bite back the retort of "No, we are fighting the Nazis. This is more than a petty fight between the Brits and Germans." But his father was an ignorant man. He chose to be ignorant, that was. He would turn a blind eye to the increasing number of Jewish immigrants coming into the country from Europe. Refuse to acknowledge the rumors of what was happening to them in Europe; about the so called "Holiday Camps".

It was the views of many of the older men. Many of them had changed these views after the devastations of Pearl Harbor, but there were a few who believed the English had started this petty fight and were bringing the whole world into it. But Blaine wasn't an ignorant boy. He didn't close any eyes or ears, going out himself to find out exactly what was happening in Europe.

So, his father had believed him foolish to want to join the fight. But Blaine was adamant. He would not be a coward. Not in the ways he had been before. He could redeem himself. He could fight and that lump in his throat from times before would go.

Shortly after Blaine's 17th birthday, Victory in Europe was announced. Their war was over. Pen to paper hadn't yet happened, but the Germans had surrendered. The Brits and their allies had won, and soon the horror stories of the camps they had liberated came to light, and even Blaine's father couldn't turn a blind eye anymore.

The Jewish members of their town had spent the past six years worrying over their family in Europe. Some mourned their losses; some had no family over there but still spent time grieving for them. The Synagogue held a special service in memory of all those who died, and Blaine went along. He went with his friend Rachel and her father, but would have gone anyway even if he hadn't had his Jewish friend grieving.

"It wasn't just Jews," Blaine said to her, as they sat cross legged in her bedroom. "It was Negros," he thought briefly of the Jones' and Rachel's father's friend, "and the disabled ," he thought of his choir friend, Artie, "people like Becky Jackson," he hadn't seen the poor girl since she had been taken away when she was 11 to a school for…what his mother had called a school for different children, when he had asked. She left because the time had come that it was obvious she was different from the other children, who were beginning to realize who or-in the minds of some people- what she was.

The last thought never left Blaine's mouth. He couldn't begin to think of how to form the word, when it hit even closer to home than all the other people who might have been put into those camps, if they had been in America. It was Rachel who said it, when Blaine faltered.

"And homosexuals." It was barely a whisper that left her mouth, but they both looked up from their crossed legs and looked each other in the eye.

Not many people their age really knew what homosexuality was. They of course would hear stories about men who liked other men. Of women who would prefer the company of other women. But no one ever spoke of it. Because it was a terribly rare affliction, apparently, and their friendly neighborhood need never think of such things.

Perhaps he and Rachel were the only teenagers who really knew about it. And understood the stigma against it. And the lengths to which some people would go to not be like that. To not be ill. Or sick. Or wrong.

He left Rachel's shortly after that, bidding goodbye to her father, who was busying himself with work at his desk. It had never been said between Rachel and him, but it had always been implied.

Rachel would tell stories of the other man who used to live in their house but was off at war at the moment. She would tell Blaine how her father would love to be fighting right now, but knew he had to stay to raise his daughter. He couldn't leave her alone, when the other man who helped look after her was off fighting, and when she was already sick with worry over him. She would silently indicate she thought of the other man as her father as much as her biological one. Silently indicate that her father was with the other man in more than a platonic way. And Blaine would silently indicate back he was like her father. And they would never say a word, nor would speak of it to anyone else.

It was seeing Rachel's father's relationship with the other man which had helped him to believe he wasn't sick. Those times he came home briefly before heading back to the war and he saw them together. There were still times when Blaine would be sickened with himself, for the thoughts he would allow himself. He felt dirty and wrong. But when he saw how the two men looked at each other, with such love and adoration, he couldn't let himself believe it was wrong.

Blaine felt like a coward for pretending to be something he wasn't. For lying to his family. For not even having enough courage to tell Rachel, his closest and oldest friend, what he was.

If he could fight, he could be courageous. If he could fight, he wouldn't be coward. America was still at war. He could still have a chance at fighting.

It was only a few months later when the Japanese finally surrendered. When the two bombs which had been dropped had destroyed them and left them with nothing. Blaine felt the disgust of what it took for them to win. He didn't want to know. For a moment he wanted to do what his Father would do and ignore it. Ignore the evil that had been done, what many people were calling a necessary evil. But Blaine wouldn't let himself become ignorant to the evil in the world. Even if it shocked him to the core and as much as he didn't want to believe something like that was a necessary action to end a war, he wouldn't let himself become an ignorant man.

There were many celebrations over the next week. That now finally America could join the British and the Europeans in their celebrations that war was over. There was no need to fight.

There was no chance at redemption.

Blaine should have at least tried to lie about his age. He should have at least tried to fight for his country.

He felt like such a coward.

He felt like a disappointment. Like a traitor.

His sister, who had been celebrating the pending return of her husband, noticed Blaine's sad demeanor.

"There will chances for you to fight," she had said one day while sat at the breakfast table in the morning room. "For now you should be glad war is over and the world is beginning to rebuild."

"I am glad," Blaine said. "Ecstatic. I am over the moon the war is finished. I just wish I could have done something more."

"I know, Blaine," Sarah had sighed. "You don't think many of the boys here feel the same?" Blaine nodded, glumly, understanding where she was coming from. But she wouldn't understand. They weren't already cowards in the first place.

"Father wants us to go to the Fabray estate tomorrow," she told him. "He has some business to do with Mr. Fabray and wants us all to tag along." Blaine grumbled something in reply, resting his head against the table.

"Don't be so miserable, Blaine," she snapped. "The Fabrays are fine people, and their youngest daughter is a lovely girl. No matter what she may have been up to in the past." They both shared a look, knowing exactly what each other was thinking. The scandal of the summer before where the Puckerman boy had become involved, though hushed up and swept under the rug, had never really been forgotten in the town.

"I like Quinn," he said. It was the truth. The previous year she had spent most of her time locked away in her house, which by no means was a punishment. Their estate, though not as large as the Anderson's, was grand. She had been kept away from prying eyes, home schooled until well after the birth of her bastard child. Blaine had gone to visit her many times, realizing more than most others how lonely and fed up she must feel.

"I know you do, which is why you should look a little more cheerful that you are going to see her," Blaine suppressed a snort. He would love to see Quinn (he hadn't seen her since school had let out) but the prospect of dealing with her parents, and her older sister, and her snotty husband, made him want to curl up in bed and never leave his room. His sister stood up and turned to leave the room.

"Besides," he heard her say, "I'm sure you'll be interested to meet this new family they've hired."

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: I've wanted to do something in this time frame for a while and couldn't really think of a good story. And then this little nugget popped into my head. I have a lot of ideas for this story. This was only meant to be a short prologue but there was so much more I could have wrote in it. So, the next chapter may have quite a bit of back-story and explanations in too. But then there will be story time. So... yeah.**_

_**Also I'm doing a lot of research of the Second World War for this story but if you know anything about it and something in this sounds off, please let me know.**_

_**I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think.**_


	2. The Fabrays

**Chapter One: The Fabrays**

Despite his awful mood, even Blaine had to admit a trip out to the Fabray's estate wasn't too bad. Though smaller than the Anderson's, their place was still a beautiful plot of land, making up a large proportion of Lima. Many parts of their land were open to the residents of Lima for public events or activities that would take place. Many of the rich men's children would go to learn to ride horses on the back fields, or learn archery with their fathers in the woods. Blaine had spent a lot of time at the Fabray's estate as a child, although it was on the other side of town to his own home.

It became obvious to him as he got older that his and Quinn's parents were planning on arranging a marriage between the two children. It seemed like the most practical idea to them. Both families were good Christians, both from high social statuses and a long line of wealth and success ran in both families.

Plus Blaine overheard his mother and Quinn's discussing how beautiful their grandchildren would be if Blaine and Quinn got married. That was a slight give away to their plan.

Last year his parents had suddenly gone off the idea of Blaine having much to do with Quinn but Blaine went to see her anyway- she was a friend after all, and the fact she had gotten pregnant would not change that.

Over a year had passed since the birth of Quinn's daughter, and now Quinn was thin again, and the child was no where within sight, his parents were more than happy with forgetting the whole mess and letting him marry her. Bitter about their attitude towards Quinn, he had politely as he could have told them he had no interest in the girl, no matter how lovely she was.

"They think you're seeing that Jewish girl," his sister pointed out one day as they idly walked around the grounds of their estate the previous summer. "They're none too happy about it, I'm afraid."

"Rachel?" Blaine said disbelievingly. "She's a fine girl, but she's like a sister. As is Quinn."

"Are there any girls you are interested in?" his sister asked, inquisitively.

"I'm not interested in anyone in this town," Blaine replied. "Nothing will keep me tied here, not even the estate. I'll get out of here one day. Soon I'll be off fighting in the war. Then after that..." Blaine trailed off, and picked up his pace, leaving his sister lost in thought behind him.

So, despite looking forward to seeing Quinn, he was less approving of his mother's behavior; fixing his clothes, brushing them with her hands, leaning over to fix his bowtie as they waited for the car to come round to the front of the house to pick them up. He didn't like how his father kept looking over at him and repeating, "It'll be lovely to see Quinn again, won't it?" He didn't appreciate his sister's husband winking at him every few moments. He had returned earlier than most, having been sent home in July, and America's fight against Japan was done before he had to go back out. Sarah kept shooting him glances, as if to tell him sorry, for the way the family was acting.

It was obvious the whole "baby problem" was forgotten.

It was even more obvious his parents wanted a marriage between him and Quinn.

It was the most obvious thing to Blaine that this could never possibly happen.

The car ride was only a total of 15 minutes, but had been the worst 15 minutes of Blaine's summer so far. The pruning from his mother had only stopped because she couldn't reach him from her seat, but that just meant she had more time to talk about their trip to the Fabray estate, and everyone else still kept giving Blaine looks.

Blaine was starting to believe his father's urgent talk with Mr. Fabray was less about business and more about Quinn and Blaine's impending marriage.

Blaine hoped he was wrong.

They arrived at the Fabray manor at 10 o' clock, and the woman Blaine assumed to be a maid approached them. Blaine had recognized her, as she came closer, as Finn Hudson's mother. She had worked for the Fabray's for as long as he could remember, and had been at the risk of losing her job during the times it was assumed Finn was the father of Quinn's child. However, Quinn had begged her father to let Carole Hudson keep her job; otherwise she would continue to venture out into town when she was heavily pregnant. Russell Fabray did not like the idea of his daughter running the Fabray name through the mud anymore than she already had, and had agreed to keep the woman on, and once Quinn admitted Finn was not the father, and had never actually had sex with Quinn, Finn was allowed to remain and continue to do jobs around the estate.

Blaine assumed it must be awkward for Finn to see Quinn so often, but then realized, perhaps the grounds were so large he didn't have to see her too much. Blaine knew, like the Anderson's, the Fabray's lodged their servants in homes on the estate. So there was a good chance that they would cross paths if Quinn decided to stroll across the grounds.

"Good morning," Carole smiled to them. "If you would like to come round this way, Mr. and Mrs. Fabray and their daughters are waiting for you." She led them through the house, to the back garden, which was specifically Fabray only, and down a winding path, until they reached a small summer house, where the Fabrays were sat at a table on the small porch, drinking tea.

Quinn's face lit up as she saw the Anderson's approach them, and she stood up and made her way quickly to Blaine. She stopped in front of him, and he came to a halt, the rest of his family carrying on to the summer house.

"Blaine," she gushed. "Oh Blaine, it's wonderful to see you! It's been a while... since June I think."

Blaine grinned. "It's been too long. How are you keeping? Well, I hope?" It was far too formal. Clinical. The way they had always acted in front of the families. Speaking of whom, were laughing (albeit falsely) over at the porch.

"I'm glorious, thank you," she said, before turning her head to look at the others, who waved at them. Quinn gave a half hearted wave back. When she turned back around to face Blaine, the look on her face was considerably darker.

"You know, I assume you know why your family came today?" she said, in a more hushed voice than before. Quinn had always been a smart girl, too smart for her parents to manipulate her as they had done with her older sister.

Blaine nodded. "I have my suspicions. They never quit do they?" Quinn laughed heartily, her eyes crinkling and her face lightening.

"No, they never do. Say, let's ditch them," she suggested. "Let them arrange whatever they want without being caught up in the middle of it." Blaine nodded again. Quinn spun on the spot, and hurried back to her parents.

"Mother, Father, I was hoping to show Blaine around the grounds outside the garden," she began. "He hasn't seen the new stables and he so terribly wants to see the horses." Blaine watched as Quinn's father and mother exchanged a glance, and then one with his own parent's.

"Of course," he announced, his voice carrying easily over towards Blaine. "Someone will need to escort you, however." Blaine cursed silently. It had always been like this. Though he knew himself he would never want to be with Quinn that way, they had always had a chaperone during their times together.

"I'll go with them," his sister announced. Blaine smiled in relief. His sister would keep her distance, probably go off on her own for a while and allow Blaine and Quinn to gossip and talk alone. She had always allowed them that whenever she had chaperoned before.

Once their parents had accepted this proposal, and Sarah had managed to convince her husband he needn't tag along (_"Jonathan, dear, I'm capable of handling these two on my own, trust me."_) the three of them made their way out the garden into the extended grounds of the Fabray estate. It was still well kept; just less so than the private garden. The woods which lined the path they were making their way down was overgrowing, and the grass was longer and thicker than back in the garden.

Sarah remained close to them for a little while and the three walked down the path in comfortable silence. Once far enough from the garden, Sarah began to distance herself from the pair, slowing down immensely before stopping to "fix my skirt, you two gone on without me. I'll catch up." After which she winked and dusted off the skirt twice and then looking around idly. Soon she was a rather large distance behind them, dawdling mindlessly.

"I always loved it when your sister chaperoned," Quinn laughed.

"Yes, she does seem to understand how we need boundaries more than our parents," Blaine commented.

"Or my own sister," Quinn added, a slight bitter tone to her voice. "Your sister seems to be the only one who lets us be and is happy enough we are just friends." Blaine sighed, and kicked at the ground as he walked.

"Our parents just want the best for us I suppose. But," Blaine paused and looked at Quinn, who looked at him back, "You know as much I like you, Quinn, I could never marry you. Or love you like that." Something softened in Quinn's features and a small smile crept up on her lips.

"I know," she said, in a much quieter voice. "The same goes for my feelings for you Blaine. I love you but you are more like a..." she paused looking for the right word.

"A brother?" Blaine suggested, and Quinn nodded.

"Yes, the best brother I never had," she laughed, and then linked her arm in his. They walked in silence for a moment, before Blaine realized he had no idea where Quinn was leading him.

"Quinn, did you say you were taking me to the new stables?" Blaine wondered aloud.

"Oh, yes," Quinn said excitedly. "They are down here," she gestured down the path they were walking. "There are so many and they are quite large, Blaine. Bright and shiny and new, a celebration of the war being over, my father said. They'll fit so many horses in!" Quinn's eyes were wide and bright. Blaine knew how Quinn loved her horses, having spent a lot of the time at the stables with her when they were younger, he had watched her coo over the animals, and ride them, and help clean up stables too, going against her mother and father's wishes.

"The old stables are still there, somewhere," she gestured mindlessly behind them. "But they are more for the public and horse riding lessons for the children. These new ones are more private. For only the family's horses." Blaine wasn't completely listening. He wondered how far away these stables must be, as they had been walking for a good 15 minutes now and had still not come across anything. Quinn seemed to be able to read his mind.

"They are quite far away. But oh, they are so worth it, Blaine! Kurt was moaning to me yesterday about the distance he has to walk everyday to get to those stables from his quarters, but I know he doesn't mind it really. He's outstanding with the horses."

Blaine was having trouble keeping up with Quinn. She seemed to talk at a hundred miles an hour, never stopping for breath. Her face looked brighter than it had all day, a dreamy expression coming over her beautiful features. Blaine couldn't remember the last time he had seen Quinn look so excited, and happy. Certainly not since the baby had been born and her breakup up with Noah Puckerman.

"Kurt? Who's Kurt?" Blaine was lost, having never heard that name before. Quinn came out of her daze and beamed a Blaine.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot to tell you!" she laughed. "Kurt is one of our new servants, part of a new family we hired. He's the new stable hand." She looked behind us to check Sarah wasn't within hearing distance, before turning back to me. "His family has quite a story, I hear."

"You hear?" Blaine asked, completely interested now. New gossip, that was, always interested him.

"I overheard my parents talking about them and then Mrs. Hudson and the cook were too," she said. "This family we've hired, well I say family, it's just father and son; they've had their fair share of drama." Blaine raised his eyebrows, and Quinn did a quick look around her shoulder again.

"They lived just out of town. Kurt went to my elementary school, I remember him slightly but when he was eight he left. No explanation." Blaine nodded, having not gone to the same Elementary school as Quinn, there was little chance he would have met this boy before. "Him and his dad left town, went down to Westerville where his dad got a new job, so my father says. Anyway, I found out from Kurt he left Lima Elementary because his father wanted to move away, after his mother died."

"His mother died?" Blaine asked shocked. Quinn nodded solemnly. "That's awful." Blaine couldn't imagine losing his mother. No matter how annoying she could be sometimes, she always wanted what was best for him. And she had gone through so much the past few years, with the American prejudice against Asians at an unnatural high, and he had done his best to help keep her safe. There had been times people had gotten too close to her, almost hurting her, and the thought that his own mother might not be here if it weren't for the safety their estate and her husband brought her broke Blaine down every time he thought about it. His heart went out to the boy and his father.

"It is awful," Quinn agreed, as they turned a corner, and finally the grand stables came to view. And they were grand. Although still a fair distance away (possibly another ten minute walk) they were still well within view. Blaine's mouth formed into an "O" shape, and looked at it in wonder. Quinn grinned. They made up a large portion of the land in front of them, fenced off for the horses to have outside grazing space.

"Pretty good, right?" She laughed as Blaine nodded mutely. "Well, they were only finished a couple of weeks ago. It took three months to build them all." Blaine raised his eyebrows, questioningly a t Quinn.

"I thought you said it was an end of war celebration?" Quinn scoffed at the question. An audible gasp sounded from behind them and Blaine guessed his sister must have turned the corner and seen the stables.

"Do you think this was built in two weeks? Daddy has been planning this because he wanted it, not because war was coming to an end, despite his reasoning for getting it." Quinn paused before deciding to change the subject. "Now, do you really want to talk about stables or hear more gossip?" Blaine grinned and Quinn took the hint.

"As I was saying, Kurt and his father moved away. Apparently when America joined the war, his father went off fighting, leaving Kurt alone."

"Kurt lived by himself?" Blaine asked shocked. Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Of course not, Blaine," Quinn said exasperatedly. "Kurt is our age, only just 17. He was 12 in 1940. He couldn't live by himself. Although, I wouldn't be surprised if he could have. He seems very self sufficient." Quinn looked to Blaine and added, "He went to Dalton Junior High and then to the High school." Blaine could feel his jaw drop almost comically.

"Dalton? The private school? That school costs a fortune... how can he afford it if he's only working as a servant?" Blaine asked. Blaine's own parents had discussed sending Blaine to Dalton. He had gone to a private elementary after all, and Dalton was a highly prestigious school. But then war broke and his mother was adamant that no one would be going off to Boarding school at times like these. The family was to stick together. The silent _"because, who knows how long we have together" _always hung in the air.

"I think maybe he won a scholarship," Quinn said, shrugging. "He's certainly bright enough to have got one. I've talked to him a few times and he seems to know his stuff." A soft expression came across her face again. "He's rather good with the horses. Brilliant in fact."

"Why did they come back to Lima?" Blaine pondered, only accidentally out loud, not thinking Quinn would know.

"I think they need a lot of work, and his father wasn't getting any back in Westerville. I heard my father saying the older man's heart isn't all too healthy. The war put a lot of stress on it, perhaps. My father is willing to pay for his medication, because the man is one fantastic mechanic. And my father loves his cars. And we needed a good stable hand for the main stable. Kurt is more than capable."

They were coming up close to the stables now, and Blaine took his time to take it all in. It wasn't that they were extremely large. But their magnificence seemed to make them grow. There were a few, perhaps four, smaller stables, surrounded by fences where four or five horses were grazing. The main stable, located in the middle was much larger, and could possibly hold nine horses, Blaine reckoned. Each stable was painted a dark red, the door borders white. It most definitely looked like something out of a picture book. The Fabray's old stables certainly hadn't looked like this.

They made their way down the path that led to the stables, which then forked to lead to the entrance of each individual stable, and Quinn led them down the path which led to the main stable. They crossed the entrance of the stable, walking across the hay covered floor, and looking around in awe.

"Kurt?" Quinn's small voice echoed around the stable, sounding slightly giddy. _She's getting excited over these horses again, _Blaine thought sweetly, admiring how passionate she was getting. A few pens in this stable were empty, four had horses in. The stable could house eleven horses in all. _Impressive._

A moment later, Blaine heard footsteps and a voice call, "Quinn, is that you?" The voice was high and had a soft ring to it, but was inherently masculine at the same time. A boy appeared from around the corner of one of the pens, leading a magnificent brown horse out, and walked towards Blaine and Quinn.

Quinn grinned as the boy made his way towards them. He smiled at Quinn. And Blaine thought his heart couldn't possibly beat faster than it did then, because if it did, it was sure to crack his ribs. The boy was slender, dressed in workman's clothes. His face was covered in bits of dirt, his hair slightly mussed and there was definitely some hay in there. The boy didn't seem to mind, the smile on his face brightening his muddy face, and his eyes dancing with excitement. _His eyes._

He turned to look at Blaine, and Blaine realized in an instant he was wrong. His heart could be faster. It was literally ramming into his chest ready to burst out any second. Because the moment the boy turned his brilliant blue eyes onto Blaine, he knew he was in trouble. The euphoria which set every fiber of his skin and the clenching in his stomach was warning him of one thing.

There was definitely someone in Lima he most certainly was interested in.

_**A/N: I'm going to say this story will be about 15 chapters. Do not hold me to that. Tiny plot bunnies enter my mind and the story goes in another direction. This story is planned, in my head. I just wanted to get these introductory chapters over and done with and then plan it properly. I have the ending in my head. I might write that chapter next. :p**_

_**On another note, I'm English, writing using US English on Word, but I don't know if some of the stuff I changed sounds right. For example, I changed "His family have quite a story" to "His family has quite a story" which doesn't sound right to me but, is it actually right? Sorry for my lack of American-ness :)**_

_**Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think.**_


	3. Not the Only One

_**A/N: (I was previously boyscanlikeboystoo) Feel free to skip this… **_

_**First, I am so sorry for the huge ass wait. There are no excuses good enough, other than I had terrible writer's block and anything I would have written would have been forced and horrible to read. Actually, after I uploaded the second chapter I wrote two of the later chapters because I was in the angsty mood, but couldn't for the life of me write this chapter.**_

_**Second, we have actual Kurt and Blaine interaction this chapter!**_

_**Third, I started writing this over two weeks ago so it took me a while to write and edit only because I had so much work. Also, this turned into a massive 10 pager! I hope to update every couple of weeks then, but I have exams next month so I am very busy and I don't like to write short chapters :/**_

_**I'd also like to address Quinn's character in this. I have my own head canon for her in this story, and there is a reason why she isn't Queen Bitch, it's not me just changing her character (but honestly I am going to have to put some bitchy! Quinn in here, only because I love it)**_

_**For any of you who prefer 's layout, I'll be putting this story on there soon :) **_

_**Warnings: I don't have a beta. You have been warned**_

_**Anyway, thanks for reading this if you have. On to the story!**_

* * *

><p>Chapter 2: Not the Only One<p>

* * *

><p>Kurt Hummel turned out to be the most peculiar boy Blaine had ever met. His high voice was uncommon for a 17 year old; his features were softer, paler than most boys Blaine knew. But they were strong, and there was strength in those eyes of his that astounded Blaine each time he looked into them. Maybe he was disconcerting the poor kid, trying to catch his eye every time he made his way to the Fabray estate, but he couldn't find the will to care. If he had found Kurt beautiful the day he met him, he now found him beyond stunning.<p>

It should have scared Blaine. He should have worried that all he'd worked on by hiding who he was while living in this old town would be thrown away over a scruffy kid who worked on an estate. But he didn't care. Something about Kurt drew him in, and darn it all to hell, if he wasn't going to jump at the chance to get to him.

He'd taken visiting Quinn every day since the first day he'd gone that summer, linking an arm with her and enjoying the stroll down the gardens. And everyday he'd be there, grinning and laughing, talking to the horses, and filling up their troughs. And every time he'd notice them from a distance and wave. It'd had been a week now, and Blaine loved every minute of his time down at the stables. He felt happier than in a long time. Even though he wasn't sure if Kurt had liked him at first.

"You know," Kurt said the first day he came back over, "I didn't expect you to bring the fuddy-duddy over again, Quinn." He raked his eyes over Blaine, with a funny expression on his face, partially smirking, and slightly scowling.

"Excuse me?" Blaine asked, confused. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"You," he pointed out, "You're kind of old fashioned, Preppy," he said with a laugh. Blaine raised his eyebrows in shock at the way Kurt was talking to him. He'd always been taught proper speech, forced into lessons for proper pronunciation by his parents, and he and his sister were scolded for using disrespectful or slang terms. But the way Kurt's eyes shined and how he grinned, made what he said not seem so bad.

"I am not," he replied indignantly. Kurt threw back his head and laughed, before settling his eyes back on Blaine.

"Well, you're such a private school made gentleman, Preppy," Kurt said with that glint in his eyes again. Before Blaine could retort, Kurt had adopted a different tone of voice, more clipped tones, and said, "I mean you were ever so charming and such a darling yesterday, asking me about my job dressed in your fancy attire, flashing Miss. Fabray and I with your dashing smile." Quinn, next to him, had been giggling ecstatically, obviously finding it all very amusing. Blaine couldn't help but grin back; even he had just been insulted, in a roundabout way, because Kurt was grinning at him with a playful look.

Quinn was still laughing even as Kurt turned around to clean an area of the stable, but calmed herself as she looked over Blaine.

"Oh he means no harm," she chuckled, "It's just the way he talks. He's got a nasty bite to his humor most wouldn't like to be on the end of, but I think it's…" She trailed off trying to think of the right word, watching Kurt work. They stayed silent for a moment, until she seemed to shake herself out of her reverie. "Besides, he's got a pet name for you, Preppy," she said mischievously, "Means he likes you."

Blaine never wished harder in his life you could control when you blushed.

Quinn was right, of course. Kurt had affectionately named her "button" and Blaine was a mixture of certain words, somehow mocking his upper class status. None of the others, who passed through while he and Quinn were there talking to Kurt, weren't given names, though Kurt was pleasant enough to them.

After spending the past week down at the stables, he still didn't seem to know Kurt all that well, spending most of the time talking to Quinn, while Kurt worked. And when he was talking to Kurt, Quinn was always there too.

But he was sure Kurt had noticed the way he was looking at him, and returned a slick smile his way, that turned something in Blaine's stomach in the best way possible. And now, finally, a week later he got his chance to talk to Kurt alone, when one of the Evans kids ran in and asked Quinn for something, and she ran after them, mouthing a quick sorry to Blaine.

Blaine watched her disappear around the door, into the beating summer sun, and was thankful he got to stay in the shade.

"She's a pistol, that Fabray girl," Kurt said, right from behind Blaine, breath ghosting over his neck, making Blaine jump in shock. Kurt howled with laughter, and Blaine scowled.

"You gave me a fright," Blaine said, "I thought you were outside." He looked back over his shoulder to see if Quinn was returning.

"I was," Kurt smiled. "But you look so lonesome, preppy, thought I'd keep you company before that pretty gal of yours comes back." Blaine chortled, turning his head back to look at Kurt, but choked on the air he breathed in when he saw how close they were standing. He swallowed thickly, but didn't move.

"She's not my girl," Blaine said, not realizing how scratchy his voice had gotten before it was too late. "She's like my sister. Besides," he added, "I think she's taken a fancy to you."

Kurt's eyebrows shot up and Blaine tried to smile, but it probably had turned into a grimace, because, yes, he was definitely sure Quinn had fallen for the pretty pixie-like boy (as Blaine privately called him). And it made him squirm. Because she could get any boy she wanted, despite her previous history. And she could surely get Kurt as well, and it stirred something in Blaine.

Because he noticed something about Kurt and though he couldn't be sure, he felt as though he could be… be like him too. At least he hoped.

Was he such a bad person for wanting that?

"Well, she's sadly not my type," Kurt sighed. "As pretty as she is." Blaine gave him a calculating look.

"Really? Pretty, smart and funny girls aren't what you're into?" Blaine asked, a part of him hoping Kurt would step closer, whisper in his ear _No, Blaine, girls aren't my type _and then proceed to push him against the stable wall his hot breath covering his cheek, and neck, lips hovering over his pulse point.

He had to stop. Blaine had long since given up trying to change himself, but he couldn't allow thoughts like that while the boy in question was so close by.

"Well, I guess you can never go wrong with pretty, smart and funny," Kurt mused, looking at Blaine. "Why, you want me to take the girl on a date, prep?" Biting on the inside of his mouth before answering, Blaine willed himself to calm the stirring in his chest. No, he most definitely did not want that. If anything he wanted to remove Quinn as much as he possibly could from them so he could spend some time with Kurt by himself. Not to try anything, but he was entranced by this boy and something was pulling him to get to know him better. Blaine managed to let out a chuckle.

"You can't just take Quinn Fabray out on a date, Kurt," he laughed, "Her parents won't have her suited that way," he added pointedly. Kurt crossed his arms, and frowned.

"I didn't realize people were still married up like that," he said solemnly, something about him shifting as he pondered this. Maybe he really had wanted to take Quinn out.

"Yes, well, it happens, in families like Quinn's, and in my family," he added. "Not that they can force me to anyone," he said with a shrug when Kurt raised his eyebrows. "I won't let it happen."

Kurt had opened his mouth to speak, and sensing they were about to go deeper into a conversation that Blaine didn't feel like talking about, he cut across, suddenly changing the subject.

"So, how do you find Lima, Kurt?"

"In Ohio," Kurt muttered, a smile playing at his lips. Blaine frowned for a second, and then broke into a grin.

"Bet you think you're funny, don't you?"

"I've been told I'm a real gas," Kurt replied with a sly wink, and Blaine felt something stutter in his chest region, and he took a breath and forced a grin on to his face. Kurt unfolded his arms, still looking at Blaine, smiling.

"Seriously, preppy, I don't really know. I haven't had any time to go around town. I remember it a bit from when I was little but," he shrugged, with a slight toss of the head, trying to say he was indifferent to how the town had changed.

"You should see the town," Blaine said adamantly, "For… nostalgia? There isn't much of course, but I can show you around. If you'd like," he added quickly at the confused look on Kurt's face. Maybe Kurt didn't want to see Lima… maybe he didn't want to spend time with Blaine.

"You'd take me out?" Kurt asked, sounding mildly surprised. "With Quinn?"

"Actually, maybe, just us?" Blaine suggested timidly. "I mean… um… I just think her parents would want a supervisor to come with us if Quinn is going to town with two boys." Blaine shrugged trying to look indifferent but hoping Kurt would still want to spend some time with him. "And I'd like to show you around. You know as a friendly gesture."

"Oh?" Kurt laughed, apparently amused by the whole situation. "Well, preppy, you're far friendlier than I'd have thought." Blaine assumed this was a compliment so smiled slightly, although a little forced. "I guess it's be a good way to waste my day off. I'm off Saturday afternoons and Sundays."

"Well, I could pick you up after church on Sunday," Blaine suggested. "And show you around, and get you home well in time for lunch probably," he laughed. "Honestly there is not much in Lima."

Kurt was looking at him under slightly lidded eyes, as if trying to figure him out, his mouth turned upwards as he observed him.

"You're more interesting than you give yourself credit for," Kurt mused. Blaine opened his mouth, and closed it again, unable to think of something to say. Kurt grinned. "Well I guess I'll meet you outside your church. Do you go to the same one as Quinn?" Blaine nodded. "I'll meet up with you there then."

"Brilliant!" Blaine said a little too enthusiastically. Kurt raised his eyebrows again. "I mean, it'd be nice to go out to town for a while. Out of the stables?"

"Definitely," Kurt laughed. "And with that, I should probably get back to actually working."

"Yeah of course," Blaine nodded, putting his hands in his pockets, not missing the way Kurt's eyes glanced over him, before turning around to go back outside. Blaine watched after him, hoping in some way that this would be easy like if Kurt was a girl, if Blaine himself liked girls. There would be none of the trying to figure Kurt out, whether he was like himself or now. And even if Kurt was, what if he was denying it or thought he was sick? If one of them was a girl, there would be no worrying over spilling a secret that took everything to keep, through constant worrying someone would find out, hiding it behind cowardice and lies.

Things would be easier.

If Kurt Hummel wasn't involved.

* * *

><p>His parents were partially confused, and delighted, that he was spending so much time at the Fabray's. Russell and Judy Fabray, however, were not so. Quinn had told him as they walked back to the house the day he had asked Kurt to join him in town that it would be best if he didn't come around for the next couple of days.<p>

"As much as their pleased we're spending more time together, they think you're spending too much time with me," she explained, looking quickly back at their supervisor, who walked slightly behind them.

"I guess that's fair," Blaine said, slightly dejected, realizing now he could not see Kurt until Sunday. _I should have invited him out on Saturday, instead, _he thought bitterly. As he made his way out of the front door, and bid Quinn goodbye, he added to her, "That Kurt Hummel is something isn't he?" Quinn broke into a huge grin, and spoke a little breathlessly as she answered.

"Oh, he is, isn't he? And he's," she paused, looking around to make sure they were out of earshot, "He's gorgeous too!" she giggled with a glint in her eye.

And as Blaine, got into his car, and turned on his engine, it was only then he realized this probably had less to do with Russell and Judy, and more to do with Quinn herself.

It looked like he wasn't the only one trying to have Kurt for himself.

* * *

><p>Sunday couldn't come fast enough. The rest of the week passed by slowly, with long days walking around the garden, daydreaming and thinking about the end of the week. He couldn't help the bubble of excitement that rose in his chest expand no matter how much he tried. He could imagine walking through the slightly crowded streets, he and Kurt forced to walk close by, hands grazing across each other, an exchange of timid looks, before looking back to the ground.<p>

Well that's what Blaine hoped for.

Church was almost painful to get through. Blaine usually enjoyed the weekly sermons, though less so in the most recent years, but enjoyed the atmosphere, the togetherness church brought. He looked idly round at where people were sitting, spotting the Fabrays instantly, and the Hudsons a few pews back from them. But Kurt and his father were nowhere near them. Blaine assumed they were somewhere he couldn't see, and tried to focus on the blurry words of the minister. He willed the man to speak faster, and did the choir always set up so slowly? When Blaine exited the church after the sermon had finished, and he glanced up at the clock. Scowling at how only 1 and a half hours had passed when surely he'd been held there an eternity, he turned his head to look around.

His worries Kurt wouldn't be coming dissolved immediately as he saw him sat on the low wall around the church grounds, his feet just touching the ground. He was looking up towards the trees, paying particular attention to something stirring in the leaves.

"Hello," Blaine said, as he reached Kurt, breaking him from his daydream trance. Kurt turned and looked at him, a wide grin stretching across his face.

"Hey," he said smoothly, pushing himself off the wall to stand. "Church a drag?"

"Um... well, you know, it took its time," Blaine said, standing up straighter, not liking the height difference. "I didn't see you in there." Kurt gave a hollow laugh, and opened his mouth to say something, but before he could someone had cut across them.

"Blaine, Dad told me that you'll be driving me home," Sarah said slightly huffily, as she pulled her hat further down her eyes to shield them from the sun. Kurt was looking at her with a mix of confusion and annoyance, but it was soon gone, replaced with a knowing look as he glanced from Blaine to Sarah, taking in their matching curly, black hair. Blaine never put grease in his hair on Sundays, as it was so stifling in the church; it caused the grease to run down his face and neck.

"I can't, Sarah. I'm taking a friend out," he said, gesturing to Kurt. Kurt smiled at Sarah and she looked him over, before turning back to Blaine.

"I guess I'll have to force myself in his car then. They only didn't want me in there because they probably want to talk business again," she sighed, throwing a pitying look at Blaine, who looked back slightly confused. "I don't think they like having me there while they plan marrying you off to Quinn," she explained. "I guess I'll be off then." She turned around on the spot, and marched off towards their parents, still looking slightly affronted. Sighing, Blaine turned back to Kurt.

"Sorry about my sister," he said, gesturing for Kurt to follow him to his car, not missing the calculating look that Kurt was giving him at that moment. He tried to ignore it, as they reached his car and he opened the door for Kurt to get in, and then made his way in himself.

"Nice car," Kurt commented, finally tearing his eyes off of Blaine, ceasing the uncomfortable staring Blaine felt he was under, and instead scrutinizing the interior of the car.

"Thanks," Blaine said, attempting to be cheery, raking through every thought he had as he put the key in the ignition to think of a topic to talk about. It was Kurt who spoke first though, as they pulled out of the lot and into the road.

"So, you neglected to mention," he started, almost awkwardly, which was strange for Kurt, "About you and Quinn." Furrowing his eyebrows, Blaine chanced a look at Kurt, who was leaning against the door, looking right at him.

"What about Quinn and I?" He heard Kurt scoff.

"What that girl... your sister. What she said about you being married off to her?" Maybe Blaine was imagining it, but there was a slight tone of worry in Kurt's voice. But Blaine couldn't help let out a bark of laughter.

"Oh God, and wouldn't that be a disaster!" They'd reached an area in town to park, so Blaine pulled up, and made his way out, Kurt following.

"Oh? It would?" Kurt wondered. Again, perhaps Blaine was imagining it, but he thought there was a slight hopefulness in Kurt's question. But then if Blaine wasn't imagining it, it may well be due to Kurt being hopeful Quinn was free.

"Quinn is a sister to me," Blaine explained for what felt like the hundredth time, "And besides she's not the right..." Blaine thought for a moment, about how to put it, without giving too much away, "..._person _for me." He said it carefully, and he didn't miss how Kurt's eyebrows shot up, but he didn't say anything in reply.

They walked away from the car, and Blaine showed Kurt down the right path that would lead to the usually busy streets of Lima Town Centre. Being a Sunday, however, it was certainly quieter than usual, with most people there being their age, or early twenties.

"Everyone's at home, enjoying their day off after a lovely time at church," Kurt said, with a twinge of sarcasm.

"Do you not like Church?" Kurt turned back to look at him instead of the streets around them, as they made their way down the sidewalk, and grinned a little grimly.

"I don't go... don't look so surprised! You didn't see me in Church, where did you think I was?" Kurt laughed.

"It's a busy church," Blaine countered, and Kurt frowned.

"Yes, I know. Everyone so desperate to have the Lord accept them, repent their sins and all that," Kurt shrugged. "Think I'll give it a miss." Blaine was sure he must have looked shocked from the way Kurt kept looking at him. "Not everyone believes in God, Blaine."

"Yes, but not everyone admits it so readily," Blaine argued, and Kurt took this in, looking thoughtful, glancing quickly around the square they were walking in.

"I suppose not," he sighed, "People are always so quick to judge." They walked around the edge, quickly looking in the windows of all the (closed) shops. Blaine hesitated, not knowing whether it was his place to ask, but his curiosity consumed him, or rather; his want of knowing if the reason Kurt didn't believe in God was what he suspected.

"Is there a... um... a reason? You know," Blaine tried to ask, "Why you don't believe in... Him?" Blaine didn't miss the way Kurt stopped walking for a split second, or the way Kurt drew in on himself, but decided to ignore it. Inhaling, Kurt carried on walking and shrugged, and Blaine left it at that.

They continued down the street in silence until they reached a busier area of town, where some shops remained open for the high demand of people whose only days off were Sundays. Once they reached here, even the most offhand comments from Blaine about the people passing them piqued Kurt's interest.

"Oh, there's Sam Evans, you'll know him- he lives on the Fabray estate too. It looks like he's taking his brother and sister out."

"Oh and, you see that pretty girl with the older woman over there? Ms. Lopez works for my family- as a maid. They live in Lima Heights..."

"I wonder what Brittany is doing. She looks lost."

Everything seemed a little busier in this end of town, though most shops still were closed; some always remained open to make extra money from those who worked all week but Sunday enjoying the day off. The little record shop in the corner always stayed open, and this is straight where Kurt headed when it caught his eye. Blaine hurried after him, struggling to keep up with his suddenly long strides.

Kurt was in the shop faster than Blaine could keep up, and found him by the Broadway soundtracks, eyes hungrily scanning the back of one he was holding at that moment.

"You... you like Broadway?" Blaine asked, trying to keep the hopefulness out of his voice. Kurt's head shot up to look at Blaine, and he momentarily looked embarrassed, before Blaine smiled tentatively at him, and he let his guard down slightly.

"Um... I guess so. I mean I've only ever listened to the soundtracks... in shops," he paused a second, turning the record over in his hands. "I mean, I never had a record player before we moved to the Fabrays so I had to... you know... listen to them in the store." Kurt smiled sadly, still turning the record over in his hand. Blaine caught a glimpse of the name and grinned.

"Oh my God! Oklahoma! I love that one!" Kurt grinned at him, and Blaine was appreciative of the fact that his cool facade seemed to be dissipating in the shadow of all these records. That for some reason Kurt looked a lot younger right now, and less like the over powering, tall stable worker Blaine knew from the Fabray estate.

"Oh, I do too," Kurt said. "It's completely shook up what Broadway musicals should be like. I've listened to this one so many times back in Westerville..."

"Wait," Blaine cut through. "Do you not own it?" Kurt shook his head, standing a bit taller, that cool exterior building back up around him. Blaine realized he must have touched a sore spot; perhaps Kurt was ashamed of his own lack of money. "I'm sorry," Blaine said quickly, "I didn't mean it like that. I just wanted to buy you something. And if you don't own it..."

"Why do you want to buy me something?" Kurt said sharply. "I work, preppy, I can afford some luxuries-" Blaine inwardly winced at the return of the preppy nickname, and how he had obviously hurt Kurt's pride.

"I thought... I thought that's what friends do," Blaine said, suddenly feeling awful and rather small again. Although after he said this, he saw Kurt's stance change dramatically, his mouth forming a little "o" shape, in realization.

"We're friends?" he asked.

"Well, I'm not spending time with you for my health," Blaine laughed, a little forcibly, still feeling horribly awkward. He countered with the biting remark, hoping Kurt would appreciate the dry sense of humor he seemed so fond of. And he did, as the small smile on his lips, grew slightly wider and his eyes lit up.

Realizing he was staring at Kurt's lips, Blaine jumped a little and tried to focus on Kurt's eyes. _Eye contact, Blaine, eye contact. _Kurt was looking at Blaine bemusedly, and Blaine thought that for a second (or he hoped) he saw Kurt's eyes flicker to his own lips before returning them to his eyes, abruptly.

And Blaine couldn't help the burning sensation in his stomach as he paid at the till when Kurt's hand brushed against his when he passed him the record (despite Kurt's initial refusal, Blaine had managed to get him to let him pay for it). And he definitely couldn't help it when Kurt looked at him with that grin and he felt his heart pumping rapidly in his suddenly too tight chest. But there was no way, absolutely no way, he could prevent his airways constricting, his breath becoming shallow when Kurt leaned into him, laughing as they talked and whispered about how original, _how groundbreaking _Roger and Hammerstein were as Broadway composers.

"They've set a new standard for Broadway composers everywhere," Kurt breathed, frightfully close to Blaine's cheek. "It's not just about the composing anymore; it's about using those songs as a portrayal of the show's storyline and the drama itself!"

The way Kurt had gotten so excited, so thrilled talking about the record clamped in his hands, the way he was grinning so hard his eyes crinkled and his nose scrunched up; the fact this was because of something Blaine had done; made Blaine feel slightly overwhelmed, slightly dizzy. And of all things, Blaine could not prevent the silly grin he was sporting because seeing Kurt like this, well that was the best feeling possible.

They slowed down as the emerged from the bustle of the busier part of town and walked down the more silent streets. They came to a stop as Kurt's shoe lace came loose and they had to stop for him to re-tie it.

"I've never met another boy who likes Broadway before," Kurt said happily as he stood up. "It's quite nice to know I'm not the only one!" He laughed although it seemed slightly forced.

"Nor have I," Blaine agreed, "Most boys around here- they're not interested in singing and dancing. It's why," he paused for a second, wondering whether it was safe to talk to Kurt about this. Catching the eager look in Kurt's eye, he continued boldly. "It's why I spend more time with girls. I find I have more common interests with them." Kurt's eyebrows rose and his smiled widened a flash of something bright in those cool blue eyes.

"You do? I thought I was the only one like that," Kurt said softly.

"It looks like we share strange interests with each other, doesn't it?" Blaine laughed, and Kurt smiled at him, gripping the record closer to his chest. They stood silently for a moment, not taking their eyes off one another, and Blaine wondered, for half a second, that if he just took a step closer, would Kurt back away?

Before he finished registering this thought, however, he heard a sharp call from down the street and he jumped in his skin, almost scared that the person calling could see what he had been thinking.

"Blaine! Blaine!" he heard the girl's voice call again. He turned and saw Rachel Berry sprinting excitedly towards the two of them, her skirt of her dress blowing out a little as she ran.

"Rachel!" Blaine waved back, smiling.

"Blaine, I'm glad I found you! I wanted to ask... oh hello!" Rachel gasped, catching her breath, as she noticed Kurt standing next to Blaine. He was glancing down over her, taking her in, a small scowl appearing on his face as his eyes passed over her dress. Rachel smiled at him, and stuck out her hand.

"My name is Rachel Berry, star of the McKinley High Glee Club and a friend of Blaine's!" she flashed him her show smile, waiting patiently for him to shake her hand.

"Kurt Hummel," he said shortly, holding his hand out and shaking hers briefly. "Also a friend of Blaine's." Rachel didn't seem deterred by the short handshake, merely keeping her smile plastered on her face.

"You were saying, Rachel?" Blaine probed, trying to break the icy silence falling down on what seemed like a staring contest between Kurt and Rachel.

"Oh, yes!" She said, looking at Blaine, "I was wondering if you would like to come to our house for dinner tomorrow night. My mother is coming to visit and she'd love to see you again, Blaine. Oh, and Kurt, you should come too!" She added, as though she'd known Kurt forever, and that he would want to meet Rachel's mother. Kurt looked shocked for a long moment. "The more the merrier after all! And I am sure Shelby- that's my mom- would hunt me down if I didn't bring along someone with such good bone structure!" Kurt was looking at Rachel now in complete bewilderment, his mouth hanging slightly open, looking completely shocked that a stranger had just invited him over for dinner because of his _bone structure._

"Anyway," Rachel rambled on, "Dad is waiting so I best be off! So can you two come tomorrow night? Six?"

Blaine nodded and Kurt gave a shrug and said quietly, "I suppose so" to Rachel's delight who waved them goodbye, and ran off again. Blaine turned back to Kurt.

"I am so sorry. That is not what I imagined introducing Rachel to you would be like! She's very..."

"Odd?" Kurt offered at Blaine's pause. Blaine laughed.

"I guess you could say that. But... she's very determined," he saw Kurt roll his eyes slightly. "She's a good person though, really. She's my best friend and she likes Broadway and music like us too. You'd get on well with her."

"I feel like we'd clash," Kurt said, offhandedly, as he stared in the direction she'd disappeared into. "Is there a reason her mom would be interested in my bone structure?"

"Oh God!" Blaine choked, covering his mouth with his hand to muffle his own laughter. "That must have sounded so strange to you! Rachel's mom works for a company who look for models for pin ups and such. Rachel probably thought you'd make... good model material." And he was trying to contain his laughter again, his side aching as he tried to stop himself.

"Well I have to say," Kurt said, his face completely serious, "That has got to be the strangest reason I have been invited for dinner, ever."

"Oh, you will get used to Rachel- and her parents. Her mom used to be a show choir director actually but took up this modeling job last year."

Blaine glanced at the time on his pocket watch, and sighed.

"It's nearly lunch. We best be getting home," he said, sadly. "My parents will be getting bored of planning my nonexistent marriage soon so I should be home by that time." This gained a smile from Kurt, whose grip on the record was still as tight as when he'd first held it. "Would you like me to take you back home?"

Kurt shook his head. "I think I'll walk. I could do with some exercise, and I can find my way home easily enough." Blaine nodded, suppressing a twinge of disappointment

"Well, thank you, Blaine," he said. "I've had a wonderful time- if only for a couple of hours." He paused a second and then continued, "I guess I'll see you tomorrow then?"

Blaine nodded. "I guess so." Another long pause held between the two of them. And Kurt was looking at Blaine rather expectantly.

"Well... um," he started. "I don't know where Rachel's house is exactly?"

"Oh! Of course! No worry... I'll pick you up from the Fabrays? Quarter to six?" Kurt nodded.

"Yes. Yes that sounds good. Good plan." The silence between them hung for far too long, neither knowing exactly what to do with themselves. Until Kurt held his hand out.

"Well, goodbye, Blaine," he smiled. Blaine took a couple of steps closer, and took Kurt's hand in his own to shake. No sooner had he held it though, shots ran through his skin and his fingers prickled, feeling incredibly warm surrounding by Kurt's hand. He felt his eyes dart down straight to Kurt's lips, so much closer than before, and when he looked up, Kurt was looking down at his too.

They sprung away, quickly, pulling their hands away from each other, and Blaine wondered if Kurt felt that jolt of _something_ up his arm too.

"Well, goodbye, Kurt."

"Blaine." Kurt nodded curtly, and they both shot off in opposite directions, to make their way home.

Blaine tried to ignore the fact he was meant to be heading in the same direction as Kurt to get to his car in the first place.


End file.
